I stare at my husband. At the grief and concern etched across his features. And I realise that he must be telling the truth. That my sister is really dead. I let out a sob and cover my mouth. Dina is dead. She’s been gone for all these years. ‘I don’t believe it,’ I murmur. But this time it’s without conviction. ‘Is she really gone?’

Toby reaches across and takes my hand. ‘I’m sorry, Zo. I’m so, so sorry.’

I choke back another sob as I think of my little sister lying in that patch of lonely waste ground by the woods. No funeral, no headstone, no one to mourn her passing for all these long years. While I’ve been enjoying a comfortable happy life of wedded bliss. How will I ever come to terms with this? How will I ever be able to forgive myself? I don’t even care about her ill-judged pass at my husband-to-be. It seems childish and trivial compared with what happened to her afterwards.

If only I hadn’t lost my memory back then, I could have persuaded Toby to tell the police. Saved years of secrets. Of lies. I squeeze my husband’s hand. ‘Let’s just call the police now. Get it over with. Dina deserves a decent burial. We can give her that at least.’

Toby’s face closes down, and he snatches his hand back. ‘No. Can’t you see? It would be a disaster for everyone who covered it up. We would all go to prison – you, me, Nick. Terrible as it was, it was an accident. It happened so long ago. What good would it do to bring it all out into the open now?’ He starts pacing the room again. ‘Truth doesn’t always play a big part in these types of investigations. Especially not after so many years. The police will be doubly suspicious that we didn’t tell them in the first place. And it would destroy our parents if we were all found guilty. Even if by some miracle we’re cleared, well, mud sticks. Our careers would be ruined. We’d probably have to leave the area. And if you can’t stay quiet for us, think of what would happen to the children.’

My mind puts together all that Toby is saying, and I realise that no matter how wrong it feels, it makes sense. I know without a shadow of a doubt that I would be willing to go to prison to pay for my crime – if I really did this thing – but could I expect everyone else to pay such a high price?